


A collection of poetry

by Kylo_Rens_9_pack



Category: No Fandom
Genre: No Fandom - Freeform, Original Poetry - Freeform, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9802751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kylo_Rens_9_pack/pseuds/Kylo_Rens_9_pack
Summary: This is a collection of different poems I wrote in English class and I'm quite proud of. I may add more if I write more poetry.





	1. Tell Your Stories

If these walls could speak  
Imagine the stories they would tell  
The horrors of gruesome murder  
The secrets of nefarious dealing  
And things they would rather hide until the day they croak 

If these walls could talk  
Imagine the things that would creep  
Underneath the blood love rears it's head  
The tales of young love  
And the stories of whymsical laughter

These walls can not speak  
They can not tell their horrors  
Their mouths sewn shut  
By concrete and brick  
Their secrets stay locked, waiting.


	2. Where I Grew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This poem is deeply personal to me and let's out some of my own personal feelings. Please be polite with this one.

All we could fit in the car-  
Piled higher than the mountains-  
I had previously seen as so far away.

Leaving my town-  
Saying goodbye to those I know. 

They're still there-  
Even miles away-  
Inside my head. 

Some have left-  
As if they forgot everything we did.

I feel like the peak-  
Of a mountain-  
So far away-

From the roads I once knew.  
The towns where I grew.


	3. Bella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This poem was actually inspired by the murder case of Who Put Bella In The Wych Elm? It's really interesting and there's a video by Caleigh Elise on Youtube if you want more than my vague poem!!

We never knew her name.  
Found her as a mangled old tree.  
Her body is an unopened book.   
Waiting for her secrets to be revealed. 

We called her Bella-  
For she could not tell us her name.  
Her mouth a locked door-  
Unable to open. 

We know not who she was.  
A spy (some say)  
A wife (others guess)  
Out theories based on crumbs of information.

Hers was a life cut short.   
Shoved down a Wych Elm and left-  
Who put Bella in the Wych Elm?


	4. Love™

Love™ is prepackaged-   
Mass-produced, sold-  
To the groveling masses.  
dulled down into an easily consumable product. 

We are given this dead-  
Idea of Love™  
"I Love™ you."  
Carries as much weight as cardboard.

They cut the roses-  
burn the papers-  
dull and simple-  
"We must appeal to the people"

"I would live for you" is dead.  
"I would die for you" is dead.  
How can we restore love?


	5. In a way no other can match.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are stars in her eyes  
> And a fire in her tongue  
> And a spirit in her step  
> And ferocity in her soul  
> That no other can match"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you guys I would add to this! I know how to kickstart my creativity now, stay up all night then drink an energy drink in the morning. Really has me on a creative kick!!!

There are stars in her eyes  
And a fire in her tongue  
And a spirit in her step  
And ferocity in her soul  
That no other can match

A raw, dripping magma from her words   
That singes and drips  
Down to the core of your being  
Hitting your very sense of self  
In a way no other can match

An untamed, wild spirit in the way she walks  
That inspires and dances  
Lifts you off your feet  
Enchanting you in her very stride  
In a way no other can match

A raging, animalistic ferocity in her very core  
That tears and rips  
Down to your soul  
Making you realize just who you are  
In a way no other can match

A galaxy in the gateways to her soul  
A million stars to explore  
A million constellations to fall in love with  
A new place to find  
In a way no other can match.


	6. Dolle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosy cheeks, red lips, blue eyes, blonde hair, snow white skin. My porcelain doll. I repair her cracked skin, shine her bright eyes, re-paint the red lips. I make her look new, beautiful, like a doll. Then I bring her to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically not a poem, more of prosey-poem thing. It plays with grammar and stuff but it isn't really written in verse. But here have it!!!

Rosy cheeks, red lips, blue eyes, blonde hair, snow white skin. My porcelain doll. I repair her cracked skin, shine her bright eyes, re-paint the red lips. I make her look new, beautiful, like a doll. Then I bring her to life.   
Life magic is dangerous, I feel myself dying as she comes to life. Her perfect, porcelain face moves, Those red, thin, heart-shaped lips let out a sigh of life. Working lungs now behind that white, porcelain skin.   
But she is not perfect, scars. So many scars. Litter her skin, imperfections on my perfect canvas. I cannot have imperfections. She must be as beautiful as a china doll.   
She calls me mommy, she acts as a real child, not even aware she was once no more than a hunk of ceramic. She asks me why I take a knife to her face daily, why I make her perfect.   
“I want to play mommy.”   
“Not again mommy.”   
“Why can’t I be like the other children mommy?”   
She cannot because deep down she will always be, my fragile little doll. Instead of repairing the porcelain cracks, I rub away the deep tissue scars. I re-apply red lipstick to those small lips, white powder on white skin, crimped and curled blonde hair.   
She grows, like a normal child. Yet, she keeps those doll features. I realized I had never given a name to my child. I have always called her.   
“Oh, doll-face.”   
“China-doll.”  
“Glass.”   
“Porcelain.”   
Porcelain.   
Porcelain.   
Delicate, fragile, white, beautiful, void of imperfection.   
That is her name, Porcelain.   
Porcelain Dolle.   
I send her off to school, when she is old enough. When her scars have faded, when she has developed a small dust of angel-kisses on her nose and rosy cheeks.   
She is beautiful, perfect, Porcelain.   
Once she meets other kids, she asks questions.   
“Mommy, where was I born?”  
(In a spell book, from an old doll in a back room) “In a hospital like all other children.”  
“Mommy, why am I not allowed to play?”  
(Because if you are broken the incantation will break) “You are fragile dear.”   
“Mommy, who was my father?”  
(My father, the one who gave me the broken doll) “He is long gone doll-face.”   
I cannot take the questions,   
Too many, questions, my poor Dolle cannot find out. Until the day she is broken.   
And the day she is broken Mommy weeps and weeps until she cannot anymore.   
The doll I had raised for years, brought up, primped, groomed, nurtured, protected from the world.   
Was broken by my hand.   
I dropped her, shattered the porcelain and therefore, broke the incantation.   
When my doll fell, she hit the floor and shattered, into a million porcelain pieces.   
I will fix her again. I will repair her porcelain, I will shine her bright blue eyes, I will re-paint the red lips, I will curl and crimp the blonde hair.   
My doll, my doll, my doll, my porcelain.


	7. Swallowed the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I love her  
> And she makes me feel like I’ve swallowed the sun  
> Every kiss   
> Every midnight rendezvous"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beep beep it's gay

I love her  
And she makes me feel like I’ve swallowed the sun  
Every kiss   
Every midnight rendezvous 

She’s overwhelming   
Putting stars in my stomach with every touch  
She is so bright   
I want to give her a ring as colorful as the nebulae in her eyes 

She makes me feel like I’ve swallowed the sun   
Like it exploded in my stomach  
Releasing plasma through my body   
Sending shockwaves through me 

I love her   
She’s mine.


	8. Whiskey to Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The night air is cold  
> Her hand is warm  
> The whiskey burns"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another gay poem lads

The night air is cold  
Her hand is warm  
The whiskey burns 

Her laugh bubbles up   
“What’s the point of it all?”   
It’s you. 

I look at her face   
And I love every inch of it  
I want this moment to last forever. 

Her hair is soft,   
Her skin is flawless  
Her voice is a comfort in a cruel world. 

I love her,   
This moment with her,   
I want to be with her forever, 

The night air is cold,   
Her hand is warm,   
The ring, is colder.


	9. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the seat of her pickup   
> Driving with no destination   
> Lost in the star and lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A real short one I wrote on a whim riding in the back of a car through a mostly empty highway at night.

In the seat of her pickup   
Driving with no destination   
Lost in the star and lights

Empty freeways at night,   
Bustling city lights   
On the highway 

She keeps a hand on the wheel  
And one on my thigh   
No destination 

Lost in the lights   
In the car  
In love.


	10. In a Bad Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You made my stomach lurch,  
> My skin burn,   
> And my heart stop,  
> In a bad way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A not gay poem!?!?!?   
> YEP!! This is a poem about hate, about compulsory heterosexuality, and about fearing and hating people.   
> If you read this and think I'm vaguing you, I'm not the person who this is about will NEVER read this!

I hated every second with you.   
I hated being touched by you,   
Being in the same room as you,  
Gave me a feeling of deep unease. 

You made my stomach lurch,  
My skin burn,   
And my heart stop,  
In a bad way. 

My throat closed up,  
I was afraid to talk,  
What I had convinced myself was love,  
Was fear. A great, burning fear,   
That my brain needed to mask. 

You made me cry,   
Made me laugh,  
Made me rip my own hair out,  
In a bad way. 

To this day every time I think of you,  
Talk to you,   
Touch you,  
I want to throw up.  
Just thinking about, all the feelings I hid.  
All the fear I felt. 

I don't think I'll ever be at ease.


	11. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She has such beautiful hands.  
> Callouses on the pads of her fingers,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM WAY TOO GAY FOR MY OWN GOOD HONESTLY

She has such beautiful hands.  
Callouses on the pads of her fingers,  
Chipped and broken nails,  
Scars on her knuckles,  
Joints pop with every movement.

She has the hands of a worker,  
Of someone who has fought,  
For what they have,  
And I love her hands. 

When she holds me,  
With those hands,  
I have never felt safer,  
More accepted,  
More loved.

A ring indent makes itself known on her finger.  
Those hands will be with me forever.  
Her love will be with me,  
Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo next chapter gets pretty serious and is real important to me and barely qualifies as a poem lol it's just me going on an angst fest


	12. Angst Fest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I’ll have you know,  
> I’ve never loved anyone like I did you.   
> I’ve never loved anyone since I loved you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all this chapter is real serious. It's super personal to me and started out as a poem and then I got real emotional and went on an angst fest.

I built a shrine,  
To you in my closet,   
Out of the pieces you left of my heart.  
And I’ll have you know,  
I’ve never loved anyone like I did you.   
I’ve never loved anyone since I loved you.  
And I’ll have you know  
That I never moved on  
And to this day I still think of you when I kiss her  
And I still think of you, every second I’m awake  
And when I see you with him, it makes me want to scream.  
And I’ll have you know, you’ve inspired  
A million poems and a million songs and a million words from my tongue   
And I’ll have you know, many a restless knight was because of you.  
And the pictures of you and him  
And how you have probably moved on   
And how I’m still stuck in the past  
And how I’m convinced I can never, will never   
Love anyone the way I loved you.  
And how I think no one will ever love me the way you did   
Or how I don’t know if you did love me  
Because you always had him and said I was your second choice   
And how we planned our future together   
But neither of us made a move in the present   
Or how you would ignore me for weeks and then apologize   
And it would be fine because   
I was in love,  
Am in love.


End file.
